


I'll hold you closer than I ever knew I could do

by Writer_In_The_Dark



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, F/F, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-05-08 08:15:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14690076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writer_In_The_Dark/pseuds/Writer_In_The_Dark
Summary: When lonely teen Emma moves to the quaint town of Storybrooke to live with her newest adoptive family, she befriends her English teacher, who encourages Emma's passion for writing, opening her eyes to new possibilities.As tension grows between the two, Regina struggles to ignore the effect the beautiful, but slightly withdrawn student has on her as their interactions grow more frequent and intimate by the day.





	1. I might only have one match, but I can make an explosion

Emma was curled up on a beanbag in the corner of the library. It was a quiet, rainy Wednesday afternoon, only a few days left of summer break, and this was her new favorite place to escape when things got a little too much, after moving to Storybrooke just a few weeks ago. Delving into fiction and escaping to live the lives of different characters gave her the break from reality she needed. She could become a dashing knight, a ruthless queen, the spark for a rebellion. Not the broken foster kid she identified as.

She knew she should feel lucky - her new adoptive parents were loving and kind and everything Emma had dreamt of, and they cared for her like she was going to stay forever, despite the fact that she'd age out of the system in early December. She should be feeling like she had struck gold, but she couldn't waver the heavy, irrational feeling that it was only temporary, and they'd soon get fed up of her and throw her back in a group home. She brought the book up to her nose and tried to inhale the courage the brave protagonist had. It had that old book smell, like old leather, and the dust tickled her nose.

"Are you smelling your book?" came a rather indignant voice from above her. Emma slowly lowered the book to see a woman that looked like she was literally written for a fantasy story. She had onyx black hair and dark hazelnut eyes that contrasted beautifully with her olive toned skin and ruby red lips. The woman frowned at Emma's open mouthed expression like she was the biggest idiot in the world.

"No" she laughed nervously. "Well, yes, but it's not that weird. It smells good". The woman raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow and scrunched her nose up in disgust. Emma was not going to take that bullshit. She stood up and practically smacked the woman in the face with the book.

"Smell it - it's got that weird book smell all the good ones seem to have. It's how I decide whether a book is worth reading or not". The older lady scoffed at Emma but smelled the book anyway, her expression softening a little.

"That's what blurbs are for, dear."

"Obviously blurbs are important, but if a book doesn't have _the smell,_  it's just not worth it" she stated, falling back down onto her beanbag. The woman kept a stoic expression, but there was a glint of amusement in her eyes that made Emma relax a little.

"What are you reading?" the woman asked, sitting gracefully in a comfy looking arm chair next to Emma. She closed her book and showed her an old looking book of fantasy tales, it's cover and spine leather, with gold etchings donning the outline of it.

"One Upon A Time..." she mused, "I can't say I've ever seen that in here".

Emma shook her head, "It's not the library's, it's mine. I've had this since I was a kid" she grinned.

Regina gave her a sweet smile, one that made the corners of her eyes crease, and Emma got lost in the dark brown pools of her eyes. She could swim in those forever...

"I don't recognize you, dear, and Storybrooke is such a small town. Are you here visiting?"

"No, I actually moved here a few weeks ago to live with my adoptive parents. I haven't really had much of a chance to get out and explore yet. I've come here a few times, but that's about it so far".

The womans eyes grew wide. " _You're_ Emma Swan?" she asked curiously. Emma nodded, a little dumbfounded that this beautiful stranger knew her name.

"Mary Margaret was telling me all about you. She and David are so excited about you joining their family. She practically talked my ear off about it" the woman grinned, seemingly contagious as Emma laughed in response. That woman was definitely very happy-go-lucky.

"I think it's a little unfair that you know my name and I don't know yours" Emma pointed out, and the brunette took her hand gently and shook it. Emma tried to ignore the blush that flushed up her neck as the woman held her hand for a couple of seconds longer than could be considered normal.

"My name is Regina, dear, and it's been... a pleasure meeting you, but I'm afraid I should go and sign these books out, I've got a busy afternoon".

Emma just nodded dumbly as she watched the woman stand and begin walking to the counter, turning her head just in time to see the blonde's gaze snap up from her backside to her eyes. She grinned at her and Emma wished that her beanbag would swallow her whole. She watched Regina's interaction with Belle, the volunteer librarian, and their friendly but political looking conversation. She acted different with Belle than she had with Emma; a little stiffer, a little more formal.

The bell sounded as Regina left the library, and Emma deemed it safe to go talk to her friend. She slid up to a stool at the end of the counter, behind which Belle was fussing over a huge pile of old looking books.

"That looks like a lot of work" Emma motioned to the books, "do you want a hand?"

Belle turned round and wiped the dust that her hands had collated on her marigold yellow dress. "Oh no Emma that's okay, I'm about to lock up for the evening anyway. Do you want to join me and a friend at Granny's? I'm going there for dinner and I want to introduce you to Ruby - you two will get along like a house on fire" she gave Emma a knowing smirk, her ocean blue eyes twinkling under the warm lights of the library. Emma wished she had an accent as intriguing as Belle's - she could make the most boring sentence sound interesting.

"I'd love that, thank you". Emma replied, grabbing her red leather jacket from the beanbag before following Belle out of the library and across the street to Granny's diner.

Upon entering, Emma heard a piercing squeal from a girl holding a bowl full of dirty plates from across the diner.

"Belle!" Ruby called out as she dumped the bowl with a loud crash next to a very indignant looking man, snatching his cane from the side of the table before the girl could trip on it and land face-first on the tiled floor. The waitress wiped her hands on her apron before sweeping the other girl up in a hug, ignoring the old woman behind the counter shouting at her.

"Hey Ruby" Belle giggled, taking her parka off and hanging it on the coat rack by the door.

"This" she motioned towards a slightly soggy blonde, "is Emma. We got caught in the rain coming from the library" she pouted as they were getting ushered to a booth by a very energetic Ruby.

"It's so great to meet you Emma, finally Belle has someone that loves books as much as her" she pulled Emma in for a quick hug, and Emma reciprocated easily.

"You too, Ruby" she smiled, peeling off her jacket before sitting down. "You don't like books?"

Ruby shrugged, "they're too much effort. I prefer going out and actually _having_ the adventures".

"Oh," Belle scoffed loudly, "you mean like that time you 'adopted a stray dog' and it turns out it was a wolf that followed you home?"

"Yeah..." Ruby grimaced, looking at the shotgun hanging behind the old woman at the counter.

"Granny still hasn't forgotten that. Anyway, I'll whip you up a couple of cinnamon cocoas. They're my favorite."

Emma smiled gratefully at her, watching her collect the bowl from the scowling man's table before disappearing into the kitchen. Ruby emerged minutes later with three mugs of cocoa balanced precariously on a tray.

"So, Emma, are you starting at Storybrooke High next week?" the waitress asked, handing out the mugs before settling in to the booth beside Belle.

"Yep, Mary Margaret insists I need to graduate before she'll let me do my own thing and become a freelance writer."

"I am so glad Mary Margaret and David decided to adopt. They're basically the definition of true love, it's about time they shared that with someone" Ruby mumbled into her scalding cocoa, blowing on the steam that was steadily rising.

"They're pretty amazing" Emma nodded, not quite comfortable enough with Ruby and Belle to disclose her insecurities just yet.

Outside, a dark haired woman stood under a dim streetlight, watching the three girls through the pane of Granny's Diner window, a small smile on her face as Ruby said something and they erupted in a fit of laughter. Little did Regina know the hauntingly beautiful blonde that had drifted into her life like a gentle tide would be her savior; and Regina was going to be hers.


	2. All work and no play never made me lose it

Emma slapped her phone from the bedside table and watched through blurry eyes as it skidded across the cream carpet. The beeping alarm got obnoxiously louder each time she hit snooze, and it was starting to border on deafening. A timid knock came from her door, opening a fraction, and Mary Margaret poked her head through the gap, smiling brightly like it wasn't 7am.

"I'll start some waffles in about fifteen minutes Emma, so you've got time for a shower before breakfast" she chimed, not waiting to hear the blonde groan in protest as she bounced back downstairs.

Emma dragged herself out of bed, turning off the screeching alarm on her phone before plodding to her en suite.

The water was hot and refreshing, unlike the cold trickle they'd try and play off as a 'shower' in most of the rundown care homes she'd been in, and Emma had taken a shower nearly every day in the month she'd been living with the Nolans, the euphoric feeling never really wearing off. There was even a built in wall-shelf holding bottles of various shampoos, conditioners, body washes in _her_ en suite. She never thought she'd have an en suite bathroom in her _own_ bedroom, in an apartment practically overflowing with love.

After a quick shower, Emma laid out all the new clothes Mary Margaret had bought for her, despite the blonde's protests to earn her own way. There was multiple pairs of jeans and t-shirts, and she felt a little overwhelmed with choice. She didn't want to stand out too much on her first day - being the new girl would do that enough - so she settled on a gray tank top with a big white hand flipping everyone else off printed in the middle, (a piece of clothing Emma already owned, because hell would freeze over before Mary Margaret bought her foster daughter that), blue skinny jeans Emma _knew_ complimented her, and her trusty, if not slightly worn red leather jacket. She threw her curly blonde locks up into a messy ponytail as she made her way down to the open-plan apartment. Why David and Mary Margaret had their bedroom practically out in the open, concealed only by a thin white curtain that hung from the ceiling baffled Emma to no end, and she knew it would make sneaking out in the future a real hassle. Her foster parents sat at the breakfast bar, a steaming pile of waffles sat in front of them as they waited patiently for the blonde.

"Nervous about today?" David asked after a couple of minutes of hungry silence, as Emma shoveled some syrup-coated waffle into her mouth.

"Not really" she lied through the waffle, Mary Margaret sighing in disdain as she took small, polite bites.

"Do you have to wear that to school? What will your teachers think?"

"They'll think they can shove their work and their stupid rules, which they can. The only reason I haven't dropped out is because you asked me not to" she replied, the brunette's expression going from frustrated to sad.

"You have so much potential Emma, you could get into any college in Maine if you just focus this year" she pleaded, and Emma wanted to tell her she didn't need college to write stories and poems, she just needed her brain and some inspiration. But the small woman looked so hopeful and Emma couldn't break that, so she just let out a quiet "okay. I'll try, for you guys. But I'm not taking this top off".

 

* * *

 

David had offered to give her a ride to school but Emma wanted to walk - she was early to school as it was, and the walk was beautifully scenic - the leaves on the trees were teetering on the very edge of Fall, losing their bright green coloring and starting to go a soft yellow. Emma's head filled with ideas, and she scribbled them all down in her notepad as she walked through the main doors of Storybrooke High, not really bothering to take note of her surroundings or what was in front of her. Besides, she was half an hour early to school and it was pretty deserted at the moment. Or so she thought.

As Emma was just writing the last few words of a short poem about the balance between Summer and Fall, she walked straight into some imbecile that wasn't looking where they were going. The textbooks she'd been carrying scattered everywhere, and Emma dropped to her knees to gather them up.

"Watch where you're fucking going would you?" she growled into her hand, rubbing her now-aching forehead.

"That's no way to talk to a teacher, Miss Swan." Emma stalled her movements - she knew that voice. It was the hot brunette from the library that had haunted her dreams every night since.

"Regina?" the blonde squeaked from the ground, hugging her textbooks to her chest. Regina stood over her, all leg and one button too many undone on her blouse, giving Emma that same unimpressed look she'd given her in the library.

"It's Miss Mills when we're here, dear" she mumbled a little absently, pouring over something that Emma only registered as her notebook after she'd spent a few long seconds drinking the brunette in. She snatched it away, heat flushing her face as she stuffed it back into her satchel.

"That poem was beautiful, Emma. Do you write as a hobby?"

"That was private" she scowled, "you shouldn't have read it. What would you know about writing anyway?"

She could feel the venomous words falling from her mouth, but she couldn't stop them - it was a defense mechanism - although her instincts told her Regina wasn't someone she'd have to defend herself from.

"Right, what would I know" the teacher fixed Emma with an icy glare that probably shouldn't be a turn on, "I'm just a literature teacher here."

"Oh."

As if the woman couldn't get any more attractive, she loved literature as much as Emma did, if not more.

"I'm sorry" Emma gave her a lopsided smile. Miss Mills looked like she was going to say something else, but an energetic brunette came bounding up to them before she could.

"Emma!" Ruby enveloped the blonde in an awkward side hug.

"I'll see you in class, Miss Swan" the teacher handed Emma back the time table she'd picked off the ground, which of course had English literature on it, and sauntered off in the opposite direction.

"I promised Belle I'd meet her in the library, c'mon" she grabbed Emma's jacket sleeve and dragged her in the direction of the library. The blonde couldn't help but look back at the retreating figure of her soon-to-be English teacher. She was gorgeous, and Emma knew it was going to be a long, hard year of pining for something that would never happen.

 

* * *

 

The school library was pretty big, and had shelves upon shelves of books. There was biographies, autobiographies, whole sections for different genres of fiction and non-fiction, historical accounts, as well as a row of computers along one wall. Emma had never seen such a well stocked school library - one school she had attended for the 3 whole months a foster family put up with her had a grand total of 20 books to their name.

After eventually finding Belle wrapped up in a book on a sofa in the corner of the library, the morning bell rang to signal classes. Emma had her first class, chemistry, all alone. She tried not to freak out too much - it's not like she couldn't handle being alone, but Storybrooke High was deceptively big for such a small town. Ruby, however, pointed her in the direction of the science wing and she found the room with ease. She chose a seat at the back of the room out of habit, and didn't even notice the leather clad guy to her left leering at her until it was too late and the teacher had started to write the lesson plan on the board.

"Alright, love?" he spoke just quiet enough so the old guy at the front couldn't hear him, but it was too close for comfort for Emma. She'd promise David and Mary Margaret she'd actually try this year, and she meant it.

"Killian" he held a ring covered hand out to her, and _christ_ could this guy be any more of a cliche? Emma decided it would be easier to humor him than ignore him, or he'd just keep bothering her all lesson.

"Emma" she replied, shaking his hand twice before practically throwing it away. Killian left her alone for the rest of the lesson, contented with his triumph.

Chemistry had actually flown by for Emma, and before she knew it she was walking around the science corridor aimlessly as a rabble of teens spilled out of the room to their next class. The blonde consulted her timetable again:

**_English Literature_ **

**_R. Mills_ **

**_B22_ **

B, she assumed, was for the first floor, but she had no idea how to get to a stairwell. In the distance, she could see a familiar figure leaning against the wall and tapping away at his phone, in no apparent rush to get to his next class.

"Hey, Killian?" she called out, cringing when his face formed into a slightly predatory smile.

"Can you point me in the direction of B22?"

"Anything for you, love. But what's the magic word?" he grinned, and by this point Emma wasn't even suprised to see gold fillings lining his bottom molars.

"Fuck off" she deadpanned, pointing to the hand on her top. He let out a loud laugh, but started out of the corridor, motioning for the blonde to follow.

"Looks like we've got English together. You ready to face the Evil Queen?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Evil Queen? You mean Miss Mills?"

"Yep, she's a stone cold bitch. I had her last year too. I think the gods have it in for me" he mused, looking out of a window at looming rainclouds. Emma landed a blow right to the back of his knee with her heel, and took great pride watching him buckle and fall to the floor gracelessly.

"Miss Mills is _not_ a stone cold bitch. You'd know that if you weren't so busy drooling over every girl in this building." He limped after her down the hall as she found the door to B22.

"Miss Swan... And Mr Jones. How nice of you to show up" Miss Mills glared at Emma, sending shivers down her spine. Ruby very unsubtly shout whispered for Emma to come sit in the empty seat to her left. Belle was in front of her, and Killian came to sit at the desk in front of Ruby.

"Be under no illusion that this class will be easy. I expect you to not only work hard in the classroom," the teacher glared at the top of Killian's head as he picked at his rings, "but to go home and study too. You will get periodic essays, and I won't allow extended timelines, unlike some other teachers. If you listen to me and follow my instructions, I can guarantee you'll pass this class with flying colors. If not, there's the door. Any questions?"

The whole class was silent, and whether it was from fear or respect or a mix of both, Emma wasn't sure. 'Evil Queen!' Killian mouthed to her from behind his hand. 'What?' she motioned back, her lip reading skills next to nonexistent.

"Miss Swan, are you going to be so insubordinate all lesson?" the teacher barked. Emma's eyes snapped up from Killian, to Miss Mills, who was now stood merely inches away from her desk. Emma struggled to keep her eyes trained on her teacher's, when that straining button on her blouse looked like it might fly off at any minute.

"Sorry" she half whispered for the second time that day. She wasn't one for apologizing, but the woman was intimidating. Regina seemed to accept her apology and paced around the room, explaining that she wanted everyone to write about a time in their life that has inspired them to be creative, whether that was to write or paint or fix up a vehicle. Emma found the assignment easy enough, she didn't lack for things that gave her inspiration, but she could feel Miss Mills' gaze on her the whole time. A couple of times, their eyes met and Emma felt like fire was burning through her veins, and by the end of the lesson, her muscles ached from tensing all hour, and the tension pulling at the pit of her stomach was nearly unbearable. She raced out of the classroom as soon as the bell went, wiping her clammy hands on her jeans.

"Emma!" Ruby called out to her as she and Belle ran down the corridor to her.

"A friend of ours is having a house party this Friday, _please_ tell me you'll come" she implored her.

"Free alcohol, music and friends, what's to say no to?" she grinned, looping her arm around Ruby's neck.

"Great!" Belle squealed, "Killian is driving us there but he's staying at Neal's for the night so don't freak out if you see him drinking" she giggled, bouncing along next to them like an excited puppy.

"Just text me Killian's number so I can give him my address, as uncomfortable as that makes me..." the blonde laughed, only slightly worried that she might wake up one night to see Killian's pearly whites grinning out at her from some dark recess of her room.

If she could just get through this Regina-filled week without doing anything stupid, she could unwind and hopefully find a good stress reliever at this party. She just hoped her foster parents would say yes.


	3. She's temptation in a pencil skirt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's short, who knew life could be so busy! I'll try not to leave it a whole month before updating next time... (no promises though)

Tuesday was fairly uneventful for Emma. She didn't have English, and had only seen Miss Mills once when she was putting some books away in her locker. She was storming past, dragging a very sheepish looking boy by the elbow towards Principal Gold's office. She didn't miss the way the other students parted like they were the red sea and she was Moses, and she also didn't miss the once over the teacher gave her when Emma stifled a laugh at the blubbering boy, pure terror in his eyes. Sure, the woman could be kinda scary, but Emma knew she was harmless really.

Wednesday morning came and Emma's body clock was starting to adjust to waking up at 7am. The coffee helped, too. She sat in class with Ruby, Belle and Killian, talking about their various teachers and bitching about the colossal amount of homework they'd already received.

The familiar clicking of heels echoing down the corridor had Emma watching the door with baited breath, as Miss Mills entered with a pile of papers in her arms.

" _Holy fuck_ " the blonde breathed, pressing her thighs together under her desk as subtly as she could. She'd been waiting for this since Monday evening. The tight pencil skirt the teacher was wearing fitted her like a second skin, and the small slit at the hem of it had Emma's pulse beating a mile a minute. It wasn't anything outrageously scandalous, but the teacher truly looked like sex in heels. She was drinking the teacher in as she handed out Monday's marked assignment. Emma's landed on her desk, with a big B+ in the top corner. It was an easy enough task, to write about your inspirations, but the praise from the teacher still made her heart flutter a little.

"Good effort, Miss Swan. See me after class" she smiled down at the blonde, who just nodded dumbly and slipped the piece of paper into her satchel.

"Emma?" came a worried whisper from Ruby on her right. "Are you feeling okay? You look a little flushed." Killian let out a rather loud snicker, earning a glare from the teacher and Emma alike, albeit for different reasons.

"I'm fine, Ruby, it's just a little warm in here" she laughed nervously, pulling at the hem of her top as if to punctuate her point.

"Is it?" Belle turned around puzzled, pointing at the AC directly above them. Before Emma had time to think up an answer, Miss Mills cleared her throat and began teaching.

Emma couldn't make out what the brunette was saying, but it sounded hot. She'd never really been one to have much of a libido, but it felt as if her brain was going into overdrive every time the teachers eyes met hers, or she'd bend over to assist another student. She'd been caught staring at least twice, but couldn't quite bring herself to feel all that ashamed about it. Emma was sure this woman had been hand-carved by Zeus himself, and sent down to Earth to personally torture her.

"You look a little lost, Emma. Do you need anything?" she felt, more than heard the teacher whisper into her ear from behind her. Her textbook was blank apart from the date, and the class had started over half an hour ago. The blonde couldn't stop the shudder that traveled through her body at the heat against her ear, and she noted that the woman smelled particularly like apples.

 _Your lips on mine would be great_ , she thought. Instead she just shook her head and kept her eyes trained on the empty page.

"Let me know if you need any help" she smiled, giving the blonde's shoulder a small squeeze before walking over to another student who seemed completely invested in something on his phone.

Emma knew she should try and get on with whatever the task was, but her limbs felt like they were made out of jelly. She could barely lift her pen to write, and by the end of the lesson she'd only written a few sentences. She packed up slowly, and watched Ruby give her a sympathetic look from the doorway before leaving with the rest of the stampede. Within a couple of minutes, the class was empty, and it was only then that Emma realised how big and quiet it was when there was just her and her smoldering English teacher.

"Come and sit by me, Emma." she pointed to a chair next to her desk. The blonde sat down tentatively, aware of how close they were.

"First of all, I'd like to congratulate you on the first B+ in this class. Just a few days in - that's very impressive."  
Emma's heart clenched at the praise.

"Your writing is outstanding, you've got real potential. But,"

 _Uh oh_ , Emma thought, _'but' is never good. Unless it's hers._ She shook her head to clear the distracting thoughts, and nodded for Miss Mills to carry on, frowning a little at the brain fog that always seemed present around the teacher.

"But, you seem very distracted in my lessons. Your piece of work on the first day was very inspired, but you barely wrote anything today."

Emma's fingers tightened on the sides of her chair.

"Is everything okay?"

Her eyes were filled with genuine concern, and the stutter in her heart overpowered the tension in her core for a moment.

"Is it something at home?" she asked when Emma hadn't answered, and the blonde had never heard her teachers voice so soft and gentle.

"No, Miss Mills" she shook her head "I've just been quite tired the past few weeks" she lied. The teacher looked pretty unconvinced, but accepted it with a nod.

"Emma," she started, laying a gentle hand on her knee to punctuate her point, "I'm always here if you need to talk to someone as a friend, rather than a teacher."

Emma nodded gratefully - Miss Mills wasn't to know that the only reason she was reduced to a silent mess was because of the other-wordly effects she was having on her. Her warm hand felt like it was burning through Emma's tight jeans, and when she removed it to straighten an already perfect stack of papers on her desk, she missed the heat immediately.

"Thank you, Miss Mills" she croaked out, clearing her throat in embarrassment.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Miss Swan" the brunette smiled as Emma made her way to the classroom door. She offered a small wave in return, before ducking out of the classroom.

 

* * *

 

Ruby waved her over to a busy cafeteria table so frantically, Emma wondered for a moment if a wasp was attacking her. Killian and Belle shuffled over a little to make room for her, and she plopped down rather ungracefully between them.

"What did the Evil Queen want, love?" Killian asked through a mouthful of sandwich.

"Just making sure I'm okay" Emma shrugged, keeping her head down to hide the blush that spread across her cheeks at the memory of her teacher _touching_ her. Well, her knee, but Emma could dream.

"Also, quit calling her that. Or I'll start calling you a pirate, with all your rings and leather" she threatened, gesturing vaguely at him. Killian, however, seemed to love the idea, to Emma's chagrin, and decided the pirate's life was definitely for him.

Most of lunch was uneventful enough, Killian and Ruby played fluffy bunnies with grapes, and _of course_ Ruby won. She made some lewd comment about just how much she could fit in her mouth, making Belle choke on her water and turn beet red. Emma hadn't really been paying much attention to the conversation, her mind wondering to what someone like Miss Mills might eat for lunch, until Ruby kicked her under the table.

"Looks like the Evil Queen has her eye on you, Emma" she smirked, nodding to someone behind her. Emma turned around as subtly as she could, which in her case wasn't very, and caught the brunette watching her from across the cafeteria, pretending to be interested in the man to her right, who was trying desperately to hold a conversation with her.

"Isn't that Mr Hood? The new math teacher?" Belle piped up, as the whole table turned around to look. The brunette turned her back to Emma and engaged in whatever conversation they were having, and judging by his wandering eyes when she wasn't watching, it wasn't about school.

"He's gross" the blonde almost spat, glaring at him.

"And he's got stupid hair" she added, stabbing an innocent piece of watermelon.

"Woah, calm down love. What did that watermelon ever do to you?" Killian laughed, one hand on Emma's arm and the other wiping juice from his eye.

"Sounds like someone's jealous" Ruby grinned wolfishly.

"Not jealous, she's just far too intelligent for someone that can't understand the correct ratio of hair gel to actual hair" Emma fumed, eating her melon furiously. Killian and Ruby shared a look, one that said _she's got it bad_ , and Belle just continued eating her lunch, blissfully unaware.

Emma didn't dare turn around until minutes before the lunch bell rang, and when she did she was met with a lunch hall completely devoid of Regina Mills. Mr Hood was, however, still present, talking with another teacher animatedly, waving a heavy math book in the air. Emma didn't want to acknowledge why the sight of him made her stomach turn, and she didn't want to acknowledge the warm heat that spread through her chest and up to her heart whenever she thought about Miss Mills, because she's probably as straight as a post, and her _teacher_ , and someone as classy as Miss Mills would never be interested in someone as common as Emma, and _it was never going to happen..._

No matter how badly she wanted it to.


	4. Creamy Coffee on a Winter's Morning

Emma's first week of school had been, for lack of a better word, _painful._ She couldn't seem to escape her English teacher. She was hyper alert when she was around, and her embarrassingly longing stares weren't going unnoticed. Killian had warned her it was starting to look a little desperate and she'd told him truthfully that she was feeling a little desperate. He had even stopped calling her the Evil Queen around Emma for her sake. The teacher had caught her staring multiple times, and it took all of Emma's concentration to stay focused on her work. 

Thursday was spent excitedly whispering with Belle and Ruby during lessons about Friday's party and what everyone was going to be wearing. Miss Mills had given Killian an hours detention for passing a note to Emma about when he'd pick her up Friday evening, which she proceeded to read out to the class, venom filling her words as her glare flickered between the two with fury.

When Friday came and Mary Margaret had given her permission to go to the party, Emma had broken a small, if not slightly trashy vase during her happy dance. She waited for the inevitable blow to the face, or the tirade of yelling, so when her foster mother had whipped round, gasping at the sound of broken glass, Emma flinched violently, squeezing her eyes shut in anticipation of what was about to come. She didn't see Mary Margaret and David exchanging a worried glance, but she did hear a chuckled "oh Emma, you are _so_ clumsy" from the short brunette.

"Be careful to step around the glass Emma, I don't want you cutting your feet" she fretted, brushing the shards into a dustpan.

They didn't discuss what'd just happened. The blonde just hoped she could convey her gratitude through a weak smile, before she bent down to help Mary Margaret locate rogue pieces of glass.

Mary Margaret hadn't given her a curfew either, as Emma would be home late anyway, so the blonde was to arrange with Belle or Ruby to stay with one of them for the night.

Emma wasn't really one for fancy outfits, and she wasn't sure what the dress code was for this party, so she settled on a tight maroon sweater and a short, flowy leather skirt. She wouldn't feel comfortable in something as constricting as a dress if she was going to be dancing with her friends all night. She'd just finished putting a soft smokey eye on when her cell lit up with a new text.

_**Killian: Outside love. Whenever you're ready.** _

He hadn't quit with the 'love' and general creepiness, but he knew she wasn't interested, and his unique personality was starting to grow on Emma.

She ran downstairs and struggled into her black boots by the front door, before getting intercepted by a slightly worried looking David.

"I want you to take this" he held out a compact can of pepper spray, motioning to her bag.

"David, it's a house party, I'll be fine" she waved him off, opening the door and shooting Killian a text telling him to start the car up.

"Please, Emma" he pleaded, "it would make Mary Margaret and I feel much more comfortable if we know you have this".

Emma wasn't used to someone caring about her welfare as much as the Nolans, and it was strange trying to adapt, but it also began to fill the hole in her heart where that kind of love had been missing for so long.

"Okay, thank you" she took the pepper spray and put it in her bag, leaning up to give David a kiss on the cheek before making her way down to the car.

_"About time!"_   Ruby huffed when the blonde climbed into the back with the two girls. Killian grinned at her in the rearview mirror, and she couldn't stop the smile that crept onto her face despite rolling her eyes at him.

"You look so hot, Emma" Belle gasped, smoothing out the baby blue dress she was wearing, "I wish I could pull off a skirt that short."

"You're too sweet Belle. You look beautiful, don't put yourself down" she lectured, buckling herself into the seat.

"Emma, this is Graham, a friend of ours. He graduated last year" Killian motioned to the boy sat in the passenger seat, and she reached over to shake his hand.

"Nice to meet you" she nodded, turning back to the girls, soon invested in excited chatter about the party,

 

* * *

 

The music was blaringly loud, and Emma wasn't entirely sure how the cops hadn't been called yet. She'd been at the party two hours, and Ruby had all but poured various alcoholic drinks down her neck, and her facial features were starting to blur into each other.

"Why don't you just go and dance with her" she poked at the sullen looking girl, who was watching Belle and another girl dancing together in front of the speakers longingly.

"Because" she shrugged.

"I've seen the way she looks at you when you're not looking" Emma slurred, "she's just too shy to make the first move. And that girl is starting to get a little handsy" she nodded at the blonde on the dance floor who had her hands firmly on Belle's hips, pulling her closer.

"Oh hell no" Ruby growled, stomping over to the two and dragging an indignant Belle away by the hand to the kitchen. Emma let out a fond chuckle and made her way to the bathroom, not willing to sit on her own since Killian and Graham had wandered off to find more alcohol.

She touched up her lipstick that had smeared from all the drinks, gripping the edge of the sink and willing the room to stop spinning. Upon leaving the bathroom, she felt two strong hands grab her arms and pull her into a dark corner.

"Wanna have some fun?" Graham breathed into her ear, his breath smelling like cheap vodka.

"Ew, no" she pushed against him a little, "get off me, Graham."

"Don't lie, I know you want to" he slurred, trying to find Emma's lips in the dark. She brought her knee up into his crotch, and then his face, reaching for the pepper spray in her bag. She made a mental note not to argue with David about it next time - he was the sheriff, after all.

"If you don't want your eyes to burn like I've just thrown holy water over you, you fucking gremlin, get out of my sight" she spat, holding the can up menacingly. He scrambled off, holding his bleeding nose and muttering something about the blonde being a frigid bitch.

The walls felt like they were closing in on Emma and she found herself struggling for breath in the sweltering house. She pushed her way through the crowd in the front room, looking desperately for one of her friends. No one was in sight, and Emma couldn't stay there any longer. She sent a text to Ruby letting her know she was going home, and not to worry. The walk home was going to be a long one when she was struggling to stay in a straight line, and she wasn't really sure where she was going, but she needed the fresh air. Checking her phone, it was just gone midnight, and no buses would be running in the little town now, so she'd just have to find her way back alone.

She'd only been walking about fifteen minutes when a sleek black Mercedes pulled up beside her and the window opened. She grabbed the pepper spray and held it up to the car.

"Fuck off, creep, I swear to god I won't hesitate!"

"Emma, don't be so ridiculous" Miss Mills leaned over to the passenger seat window. "What are you doing walking around at this time of night?" What was _Mills_ doing driving around so late?

"I was at a party" she motioned vaguely behind her, "it was shit so I left"

"Get in the car, dear, I refuse to be responsible for your death because I let you walk home in the cold and get hypothermia".  
Emma climbed into the merc a little reluctantly, tripping on the sidewalk and falling into the car awkwardly. The heated leather seat was inviting though, and it wasn't hard to relax into it.

"Nice car, I didn't realize teachers made this much" she mused, looking at the hi-tech gadgets on the dashboard.

"They don't" she scoffed, "I have a good inheritance".

They'd been driving aimlessly for a couple of minutes and the tension in the car was growing steadily. Emma fidgeted in her seat, opening and closing the window and playing with the sleeves of her sweater.

"What's your address? I'll take you home" the teacher asked quietly, breaking the silence.

"I'm not sure" Emma admitted softly. She couldn't think straight, (especially not with Mills sat next to her in a casual blouse and smart pants), and she scolded herself for not burning the address into her memory. The teacher could smell the alcohol from where she was sat and didn't miss Emma's glazed over eyes.

"You're drunk, how responsible" she growled, turning the car around and driving with a purpose.

"I didn't ask you to pick me up"

"I couldn't just let you walk around aimlessly all night. And I hope you know it's incredibly irresponsible to get so drunk you can't even remember your own address, Emma" she scowled. The blonde didn't bother responding, she didn't need a lecture, she needed aspirin. A few minutes later, they pulled up into the drive of a large, white house.

"Come on, you can come inside until you've sobered up." The brunette climbed out of the car and Emma followed gracelessly, half falling out of the open door.

She gazed up at the house which, in Emma's opinion was more of a small castle, stumbling after the teacher through the front door. The interior was equally lavish, with mahogany wood paneling all through the hallway, and a small chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

"You know, you're not very talkative" Regina commented as she took her arm gently and steered her to the couch in the front room as Emma sat down unceremoniously, fighting against to her swimming vision to stay upright and keep what little dignity she may have left.

"So I've been told" the blonde agreed, holding her head in her hands.

She heard the teacher chuckle quietly, her heels clicking out of the room, only to return a few minutes later.

"Sit up, Emma" she instructed, gently pushing a tired Emma up into a sitting position, holding a glass of water and two aspirin.

"Take these, drink that glass of water" she handed the pills and water to Emma, who downed them easily.

"Thanks" she set the empty glass down on the coffee table gently, leaning back into the comfy seat. Neither talked for a minute, Emma was content to just study her surroundings. The teacher had switched off any lights that might filter into the living room, and there were a couple of candles burning in their respective corners, casting a gentle glow over the room. The candles smelled like pine, but the only scent Emma could focus on was the apple perfume Miss Mills always seemed to be wearing. It was intoxicating, stronger than any alcohol Emma had drunk that night, and all she wanted to do was snuggle into it. But Emma was _not_ a snuggler. She refused to be so sappy. Having high walls had helped her survive thus far, she wasn't about to tear them down for some pretty teacher. Even if Emma knew there was so much more to Regina than that.

"Penny for them?" the soft voice pulled Emma from her thoughts, and she suddenly remembered that she was sat, drunk, on her teacher's couch at an ungodly hour.

"Sorry?"

"You looked pretty deep in thought there" she grinned, ruby lips revealing a set of perfect white teeth, and Emma tried not to groan out loud. Was _everything_ about this woman perfect?

"Just tired" Emma smiled, "I'm sorry to have been such an inconvenience, Miss Mills" she offered politely.

"Emma, you can drop the formality. We aren't in school, you can call me Regina".

_Regina._ The first time she'd introduced herself to Emma, the blonde couldn't help but think the name suited her perfectly. It was so regal, and therefore, incredibly fitting for someone as classy as _Regina._

"How are you feeling now?"

"A little better. My headache is lifting."

There was a moment's silence before she heard a sharp intake of breath from the brunette.

"Emma, what on Earth happened to your arms?"

Emma hadn't seen the ugly purple bruises that had formed on her arms until now, her left arm looking considerably worse with three clear fingerprints wrapping around her wrist. It couldn't help but remind her of the many times one of her foster fathers would grab her arm in frustration when she'd get in the way, or not keep up with him when he was pacing around the liquor stores, getting her to distract the shopkeepers as he shoplifted as much as he could carry. He'd always forget to come back for her. Her lungs felt as if they were collapsing in on themselves as the memories from years ago and just hours ago swam through her mind, until she felt warm hands close around the bruises in a feather-light touch.

"Breathe, you're okay" Regina soothed, "follow me: breathe in..."

Emma closed her eyes and sucked in a long, deep breath, and held it as Regina counted to three.

"And out..."

After a few tries, Emma felt her breathing even back out to a normal rate again. She wanted to wrap her arms around Regina's neck and hug her as tightly as she could. Instead, she opted for a timid smile.

"Thank you" Emma breathed, letting her eyes flutter shut at the feeling of the gentle, repetitive circles Regina's thumbs were making over her wrists. It was probably meant as a comforting act, but it just felt like little sparks of electricity shooting up Emma's arms and through her chest.

"Your pulse is racing pretty fast, are you feeling okay?" the brunette asked, worried eyes searching Emma's face for any signs of distress.

"Yeah" the blonde chuckled, "I'm okay."

"What happened at that party, Emma?"

She didn't really want to tell the teacher her woes, but she'd picked her up and given her aspirin and brought her out of a panic attack before it could even become one. Emma felt like she deserved an explanation, at the least.

"Some guy tried to get lucky. I wasn't into it" she shrugged, hoping she'd leave it at that. She didn't.

"The little shit" Regina fumed, earning a tiny, surprised grin from Emma.

"Was it Killian? That obnoxious little-"

"It wasn't Killian. It was some guy Killian knows. He cornered me after I came out of the bathroom. That's why I was kinda hostile when you pulled up. Sorry about that, by the way" she ducked her head in embarrassment.

"Did he..." Regina wasn't really sure how to ask that question to someone that was obviously a little vulnerable already.

"No, he didn't get a chance. But I don't think he'll be having any kids any time soon, put it like that"

"Good. I'm proud of you, Emma" the brunette smiled at her. For a moment she looked like she was going to give the younger girl a hug, but decided instead to settle on giving her forearm a soft squeeze.

"Does David and Mary Margaret know where you are?"

"They think I'm staying over at a friends. If it's okay with you, I'd like to let them carry on thinking that."

Emma didn't need to explain any further, Regina knew this night could be considered very sketchy if anyone knew. She nodded in agreement, promising she'd be right back before heading upstairs.

Emma tried desperately to collect the jumbled emotions that were racing through her mind. On the one hand, she was literally _sat_ in the house of the woman she'd been crushing hard on since she first met her in the library. On the other, she had seen a soft, gentle side to the teacher that was only making her fall a little harder and a little faster. She didn't know what to make of it all, but she did wish she had her notepad with her at that moment, because she could already think of about 10 different poems to write about the brunette's various facial features.

Regina rounded the doorway into the living room, making Emma startle a little since she'd slipped her heels off and was walking around as silent as a cat.

"I've set the guest bedroom up for you, there's everything you'd need for the morning. If you'd like a shower, please don't hesitate. I hope these fit, they're some of my old pajamas." Regina handed a thin white top and checkered flannel pajama pants to Emma who took them, a little speechless. She'd been hoping Regina might offer her the couch for the night, she wasn't expecting the full-blown hotel experience.

"Thank you, Regina, I owe you so bad" she breathed, taking the soft clothes and hugging them to her chest. The teacher visibly swallowed before beckoning Emma to follow her up the stairs. Emma kept her eyes respectfully trained on the ground the whole way up, feeling slightly guilty of the way she'd been shamelessly ogling the teacher like a horny teenage boy whenever she was in class. Even if the woman is hot as hell.

Regina opened a white wooden door to what she assumed was one of the many guest rooms. The room itself was huge, almost as big as the ground floor of David and Mary Margaret's apartment. There was a double bed with crisp white sheets in the middle of the room, and tasteful artwork placed strategically on the walls.

There was a chest of drawers either side of the bed and is that... _mahogany?_  Emma shook her head in disbelief. If there were mahogany cabinets in the guest rooms, what was the furniture in the master bedroom made out of? Crystal?

"Is everything okay, Emma?" Regina's soft voice rang out from the doorway. Emma decided at that moment that Regina's voice was like sipping that perfect, creamy coffee on a cold winters morning, when everything is still and silent and white.

"Okay? This is amazing" she laughed in disbelief, falling onto her back on the bed.

"God, this is so comfy. I might have to move in" she joked, head falling to the side to study Regina's posture as she leaned against the door frame. She tried not to think about what could be, a year in the future, Regina dressed in nothing but a sleep shirt and her underwear, regarding Emma with the same, soft expression from the doorway of _their_ bedroom. She tried, and failed miserably.

"Goodnight, Emma"

"Sweet dreams, Regina" she mumbled in response, fighting the heavy wave of sleep as it washed over her. She heard the door click shut gently, and pulled off her sweater and skirt. She dressed in the t-shirt and pajama bottoms, that were a little baggy on her, but it just made her all the more comfy.

Sleep came easily to Emma that night, and for the first time in years, she wasn't plagued by a single nightmare. Instead, she dreamed of hushed giggles and whispered promises, and endless 'what ifs'.


	5. Are we selfish? Are we self-destructive?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, it's been a while

The first thing Emma notices, before she even opens her eyes, is that this is _not her bed_. It's bigger, and it's not facing the right direction. The second thing she notices is the faint pulsing headache behind her eyes. It's not painful, just very uncomfortable. The third thing is more of a realisation - she just woke up in Regina's house. Their conversation starts to come back to her, albeit hazy and bitty.

She finally cracks open an eyelid - and then the other - to a pristine white room. Sun filters through the blinds in horizontal lines, falling against a light brown carpet. The temptation to climb out of the window and on to a branch on the tree just outside is more than tempting, the blonde mortified that she'd been so drunk the night before that she couldn't even make her own way home.

She doesn't climb out of the window, however. Instead, she grabs her clothes from the night before and plods sleepily into the bathroom for a much-needed shower.

 

Regina is pouring herself a mug of coffee when she hears soft footsteps come down the stairs. She brushes down some non-existent stray hairs before turning around to face a very tired Emma.

"Good morning Emma, how're you feeling?"

"Like I ran a marathon" the blonde groans, pushing a hand through damp hair.

A glass of water and two more aspirin are waiting for her on the marble breakfast bar, beside a plateful of pancakes and a small jug of syrup.

"You made me breakfast?" Emma asks in disbelief as Regina nodded, sitting opposite her with a plate of her own, regarding the blonde with an unreadable expression.

"Thank you so much, Regina", wide green eyes halfway between vulnerable and grateful. Regina didn't quite know how to feel or react.

"It's just pancakes" she shrugs gently, watching Emma eat like she'd never see another meal again.

"I mean for the whole... letting me stay here last night. Listening to my problems" she chuckles, "you're pretty amazing. I would've thrown me out."

Regina ignores the compliment before she could properly analyse the dizzy feeling it gave her.

"You know, I think that's the most you've ever said to me in one go" she grins playfully.

Emma didn't say react for a moment, and the brunette worries she's stepped on an emotional landmine.

"I guess I'm not very sociable around people I don't know."

"Well, you seem to get on with the... _troublesome_ trio of peers you spend your time with" Regina counters. It isn't hostile or argumentative, just gently observational.

"I guess. Maybe it's a little different with you" the blonde shrugs, like she wants to drop the subject. Unfortunately for her, Regina is very much like a dog with a bone when her curiosity is piqued.

"Different?"

"Mhm"

"Different, how?"

She heard the blonde sigh in defeat.

"You make me..." Emma watches her pancakes like she's searching for a word in them. There's a pregnant pause, and Regina grows a little anxious at what she'd say. She isn't oblivious to her nickname at school. What does she make Emma feel? Scared? Terrified? Maybe she'd massively stepped over a line and Emma doesn't really want to be here at all, maybe all she wants to do is leave, like everyone else in her life leaves-

" _Nervous._ You make me a little nervous"

Brown eyes watch carefully as shy green ones come up to meet them, before dropping back to the plate, and then back a few seconds later.

"I scare you?" comes the tentative question.

"No, you definitely don't scare me. People at school are assholes, don't take any notice. I guess I can see where they get the 'Queen' bit from, but evil? I know evil, and you definitely aren't..."

Regina was glad, at that moment, for her Latina heritage, and hoped the warm blush she could feel rushing through her cheeks and to the tips of her ears was concealed by her olive skin.

It wasn't, and Emma is suddenly very aware of what she'd said.

"I'm sorry, that was such a weird thing to say"

_Fuck._

She hastily pushes off of the stool, leaving her plate of pancakes half-finished.

"I'd better get going, look at the time," she says all in one breath, even though there's no clock in the kitchen. She grabs her shoes from the hallway and shoves her feet in as fast as they'd go. Why did she have to make such an idiot out of herself when things were going so well?

"Emma, wait-"

_Fuck, fuck, fuck._

"Thank you so much, Miss Mills, for the hospitality. I'll see you Monday" the blonde threw over her shoulder as she rushes out of the front door and down the steps.

She doesn't stop her awkward jog until she's clear of the large white house. When she finally does stop, every emotion she'd been feeling since the night before boils over and erupts like a volcano.

"Fuck!" she yells as she kicks at a pebble, watching it bounce across the street and collide with a fence. "Fucking idiot" she groans into her hands.

When Emma eventually stops scolding herself and looks up, she realised she can make out the clock tower in the distance. Mary Margaret and David's apartment is a five minute walk from the landmark, and even from where she's stood, the blonde can figure out which direction she has to walk in order to get home.

 

It only takes her 15 minutes, and as soon as Emma walks through the front door she makes a beeline directly for the coffee.

A thump from behind her breaks Emma out of the mental thrashing she was giving herself.

"Ow," David grumbles sleepily, rubbing his hip. "Good morning, Emma!" A wide smile spreads over his face at the dishevelled teen. "Rough morning?"

She rolls her eyes at him.

"I'll take that as a yes, then. Do you need some aspirin?"

She shook her head 'no'. "I've taken some. I think I'm just going to, uh..." she nods towards the stairs, cradling the mug of steaming hot coffee between her hands, trying to curl herself around its heat.

"Go" he waves the girl away with a chuckle.

 

Emma strips out of her clothes as soon as she closes her bedroom door, not liking the way they smell like stale alcohol, throwing them into the open hamper before collapsing onto her mattress.

Her phone is filled with multiple worried texts from Ruby and Belle about her whereabouts, and there's even a couple of missed calls from Killian. Her last thought before she drifts back into a deep sleep is that she should answer them before they get too suspicious.

 

When Emma wakes with a start, the sun is setting, bathing her room in gold. Her heart rate is racing from a nightmare, and although it's already fading, she can still feel Graham's hands pinning her wrists down, the fabric of his jeans rough against her bare legs.

She doesn't even realise she's crying until she licks her dry lips and tastes salt. A long drink from the glass of water one of her foster parents had left while she was asleep, and she feels a little better.

She reaches over and grasps her cell from the nightstand, guilty that she hasn't let her friends know she's okay yet.

She opens Ruby's text thread first:

 **Ruby: Hey bitch, where are you?**    _ **12:04am**_

**Ruby: Emma? At least let me know you're home safe _2:31am_**

**Ruby: If you're dead I'll kill you _9:17am_**

The texts make her smile. She didn't really have time to make friends while she was bouncing between foster families and care homes, but Storybrooke feels like something she'd almost forgotten the safety of - it feels like _home._

She types out a quick reply, explaining that she got home safe and fell straight asleep, and hopes she doesn't question why Emma is so late in replying. She doesn't like lying to her friends.

Belle's texts are pretty much the same, just softer in the way they're delivered. She doesn't threaten her life, either. She sends her the same text she sent Ruby, even though she knows they'll be together - they spend most weekends together. Emma briefly wonders if they know they're in love with each other.

Killian's missed calls are paired with a single text:

**Killian: Can we meet? _1:50pm_**

It sounds ominous, but Emma shrugs it off. _He is pretty weird, after all._

**Emma: Granny's, 15? _5:05pm_**

A reply comes just minutes later, as Emma is brushing the knots from her hair.

 **Killian: I'll be there.** _5:07pm_

She pulls a baggy sweater and a pair of skinny jeans on and digs out an old pair of converse she stole from a shopping mall years ago.

 

The sun has only just started its descent in the sky, but there's already a chill to the evening air. Emma likes it, though - cold weather means the stars will come out bright at night, and in Storybrooke, Maine, light pollution is pretty low, so the constellations are easy to pick out. Most nights, the moon and the stars are all that's needed to light up the quaint town.

The bell that rings above Emma's head is what alerts Killian to her presence. A hand waves her over to a booth in the corner of the diner, his heavy rings catching the fluorescent lights.

"I ordered you a cocoa" he pushes the mug towards her, the whipped cream wobbling on top of it.

"What's up, Killian?" she asks as she brings the mug to her lips. His whole posture is tense, his brows drawn together, and she's only just noticed the dried bloody cuts on the knuckles of his left hand.

"Oh my god, what happened?"

Killian's features are heavy with guilt as she picks up his hand, dabbing a napkin over the wounds as gently as she can.

"Graham told me what happened."

Emma's movements come to a halt and her throat bobs, but she doesn't look him in the eyes. _Can't._

"Well, his version, when I asked him what happened to his nose. He told me you were being-" he clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably, the leather under him squeaking, "being a 'frigid bitch' when he tried to kiss you. That was all I needed to hear."

He's quieter, softer than Emma's ever heard him. He's usually toothy grins and unsubtle flirting, unshamefully trying to hit on girls that aren't really interested, but he never pushes. He never pushed Emma, when she told him he wasn't interested, and she knew he pretended like it didn't hurt him but it had.

"Is that how..?" she gestures at his hand, purple bruises blooming under her thumb, as it sweeps gently across the cuts.

"I was so angry, Emma. I didn't know what else to do - all I knew is that I wanted him to _hurt_ ," He eyes the bruises that are peeking out from where the sleeves of her sweater have ridden up, "because I knew he had hurt you."

"Killian, what did you do?" she's worried now. His eyes are glossy and he looks away when she tries to make eye contact, the muscle in his jaw twitching.

"I didn't kill him, love, if that's what you're asking." He sighs, and suddenly all he looks is tired. Exhausted. "I wanted to, for a moment. I didn't. But as he was getting in his car, he told me he'd come back," he pulls his hand out of hers, "he'd come back to find you, to hurt you. And it's all my fault, Emma."

Emma deliberates for a few seconds. Graham could've just been angry, throwing hollow threats in the heat of the moment. Or, he could have been telling the truth. Either way, the few scraps she's had with other kids in the care homes aren't enough to help her defend herself if someone as big as Graham tries anything again. Next time she won't have alcohol to help her slow his movements enough to get a couple of decent shots in.

"It's not your fault, you were protecting me" she says it fiercely, because although Killian is strange and she decided when she first met him that she wasn't going to like him, they'd known each other a week and Killian has known Graham for a lot longer, and he still came to her defence when she wasn't even there.

"But if he does come back, I can't stop him like I am now" she gestures vaguely to herself. "And judging by the lack of bruises anywhere but your fist, you're not in much danger of not being able to protect yourself. So..." she sets her mouth in a hard line and tries not to imagine what Mary Margaret would say if she was here right now.

"I guess you're going to have to teach me how to fight."


End file.
